


Helping Hand

by junkrat



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, but on a serious note this is based on a true story (something that happened irl), it turned out differently than it did for me but thats......... a good thing lmao, um so, wrench is trans and you can try to convince me otherwise but its my fic and im always right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 17:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15296736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkrat/pseuds/junkrat
Summary: wrench is trans and is having a hard time doing his t shot.





	Helping Hand

The bathroom was quiet, the only noise to be heard came from the living room where Marcus was playing his music while doing whatever he was doing on his laptop. It served as the right ambiance for Wrench, anyway. He liked the familiarity of it.

  
The cap from the needle resting securely between his teeth, he narrowed his eyes at the grip he had of his thigh, silently threatening it to get the job done. The other hand was holding the needle above the spot, his hands trembling slightly as he took in a deep breath.

  
He lifted his arm, and mentally counted to three. Upon reaching the final number in the countdown, he brought his arm down but stopped before the needle could touch his skin. He grimaced and released his thigh to put the cap back on the needle.

  
Grabbing the rolled up part of his boxers, he pulled it down harshly and set the needle back on the sink and stormed out of the bathroom and made his way to the couch, plopping down next to Marcus in a huff, crossing his arms to pout.

  
"Everything okay, man? You've been in there for a while." Marcus asked, getting the obvious hint that Wrench needed something. He closed his laptop and set it on the unoccupied cushion to his left, which Wrench took as an opportunity to turn his body and lay his head on his boyfriends lap, looking up at him with frustration.

  
"I can't do my shot." he admitted meekly, an unwelcome sense of failure slowly creeping in.

  
"Are you out? I thought we just got it refilled." Marcus asked, arching an eyebrow to show he was genuinely confused and unable to think of any other reason Wrench would be having a problem with his shot. Wrench shook his head.

  
"No, I still have some. I can't seem to do the shot itself. Like, my hands are shaky and I got this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach every time the needle gets close to my skin. It's fuckin' weird man." he concluded and then pointed an accusatory look at the hacker. "Did you put something in my coffee this morning?"

  
Marcus laughed. "Ever think it's the coffee itself that's messing you up? More to the point, why'd you even accept the coffee if you knew you had to do your shot today?" he interrogated, poking his boyfriends cheek repeatedly. Wrench narrowed his eyes.

  
"That was hours ago, the affects should have worn off by now. Besides, it's not like my tolerance for caramel flavored caffeine is _that_ low." he answered, finally swatting Marcus' hand away like it was a mosquito. Marcus smirked.

  
"Then it sounds like you're scared." he pointed out, immediately earning a huff from Wrench.

  
"That's not even funny, M." his tone said he was serious, but his body language betrayed him and told Marcus he was right. He smiled, running his hand through Wrench's hair.

  
"Then the feeling in your stomach?" he pried, grinning.

  
"Maybe I gotta take a shit."

  
Marcus laughed, gently squeezing the top of the engineers head. "Or maybe you're scared. It's fine dude, I'm sure it happens to a lot of people. At least half of the population are afraid of needles." his attempt at comforting the man was appreciated, but the mocking grin undercut his tone a little.

  
"I'd like to see your evidence to support that statistic." Wrench retorted, insincere offence taken at Marcus' words.

  
Marcus, suddenly distracted by the man in his lap, stared down at Wrench with a warm smile. Odd time to think about it, sure, but he was fixated on the environment. Wrench wearing nothing but one of his old ratty t-shirts that hung loosely on his body and a pair of Marcus' boxers. The soft melody of the music in the background, the sunset giving the room a mixture of orange and red hues.

  
Wrench wasn't wearing his mask. He rarely ever did when they were home. Granted, it took a while for him to walk around so freely, only ever taking the mask off to shower and to sleep. But when two men share a small one bedroom apartment, it didn't take long to establish the sense of trust and comfort Wrench needed to keep it off.

  
He looked tired, however. Marcus knew it was because he stayed up late at his garage working on putting more code into Wrench Jr. because, as the anarchist had strongly emphasized with a tight hug around the robot, not doing it would be like neglecting a real child. It took a lot of patience and persistence, but Marcus had finally gotten Wrench on a somewhat normal sleep schedule in an attempt for the high strung engineer to take better care of his health. Wrench wasn't so willing, but became more than happy to comply when the promises of cuddles and other rather intimate welcome home's were made by the hacker.

  
"Yo, Marcus, you there?" Wrench questioned, waving a hand in front of Marcus' face.

  
He blinked a few times before grabbing Wrench's hand and brought it to his mouth, giving it a kiss. Wrench became flustered, as was Marcus' goal. "Thankfully, I'm here." he gushed, a wistfulness to his tone.

  
Wrench snorted. "Nerd." he mocked, but didn't bother trying to pull his hand away.

  
Marcus laughed, moving his hand so that he could intertwine their fingers and laid their hands on Wrench's stomach. "You want me to do your shot for you?" he asked.

  
"Well, you already have enough testosterone in your body. Don't see why you'd need it, but knock yourself out." Wrench joked, which earned a not-so convincing unamused look from Marcus.

  
"How about I knock you out instead?" he teased. Wrench stuck his tongue out.

  
"I can just do it tomorrow, man. No biggy." he pacified, uncertainty in his voice.

  
"Nah man, I know how you are with your shots. It's gotta happen today. Come on."

  
Removing his hand from Wrench's elicited a whine from the engineer. Marcus grabbed the back of Wrench's head with one hand, the other grabbing his arm as he lifted Wrench off of him. When Marcus was free, he turned to see Wrench still laying on the couch, one arm extended out as it hung off the seat. He sighed.

  
"Wrench, you gotta get up." he placed his hands on his hips and shook his head at his limp boyfriend.

  
"Tomorrow..." Wrench replied in a sing-song voice.

  
"After all this stalling, we could have been done by now. You know that, right?" he asked, a certain lack of patience made apparent in his voice and was received by the engineer.

  
Wrench sighed, getting to his feet and looking at Marcus. "You're right, you're right." he mumbled, making his way to the bathroom.

  
He hesitantly grabbed what he needed and brought it back to the living room. He sat back on the couch, and laid everything on the coffee table. Marcus knelt down on one knee to Wrench's left, giving him enough room and to watch. He's never seen Wrench do his shot, so obviously this would be the first time he gives Wrench the shot and he wanted to make sure he took in as much information as he could get.

  
There was something to admire about how focused and careful Wrench was being. He held a steady hand as he rubbed the alcohol swab on the lid of the vial. He set the vial down and rolled up the left leg of his boxers and rubbed his thigh with a new swab. He softly blew on it to help it dry.

  
He reached for the needle and uncapped it, exercising even more caution as he set the cap down on the table in trade for the vial. He held it upside down, inserting the needle and slowly pulling back on the plunger until it was full with the correct amount. He flicked his finger against it to get rid of any air bubbles he could see. When he was satisfied with the result he let out a long sigh and held the needle out to Marcus.

  
"Alright, it's ready." he mumbled. Marcus took it, careful as to not touch the needle or the plunger.

  
"Are _you_ ready?" he asked.

  
"Got no choice but to be." he decided as he turned to face Marcus, giving him better access to his thigh. Wrench grabbed his thigh once more and pinched it. "Okay, go." he said with enough determination to fool anyone.

  
"Dude, I don't know how to do this." Marcus admitted, a little frustrated that his boyfriend forgot the most important part: actually telling Marcus how to do the shot.

  
"Just-- Stab it in, man!" he shouted, ignoring his voice cracking from nerves.

  
Marcus stared up at him, completely dumbfounded. "Wrench, I am not going to fucking stab you."

  
"Got a better idea?" his tone sharp. It didn't take long for his nerves to settle back in his veins, but he felt bad taking it out on Marcus. "Sorry, just... you really do just... jab it in, like you're throwing a dart. But make sure you do it where I'm pinching, alright?" he explained with a low voice.

Marcus, feeling a little better that Wrench actually elaborated his prior order, decided to give himself more balance and brought his other knee down to the floor.

  
"Do you want me to like, count to three?" he asked.

  
"Fuck that man, it doesn't work. You gotta just- Wait!" his train of thought broken as he shouted and extended his arms out as he seen Marcus' arm coming down with the needle. Marcus quickly reacted and swung his arm back so he didn't stab his idiot boyfriends arm.

  
"Jesus, Wrench!" he shouted, unnerved more due to the fact he almost plunged the needle into his arm than Wrench actually stopping him.

  
"Sorry! Sorry, man! I gotta- Fuck!" he cursed, clenching his fists before he covered his face with his hands, leaning back on the couch.

  
Marcus exhaled, closing his eyes. "It's okay. It's fine. If you need to take a second..."

  
"No, fuck that," he shot up and looked at Marcus, "I'm ready. Do it." he was convincing, but when Marcus went to do the shot it got the same reaction, this time Wrench moving his thigh out of the way and Marcus nearly stabbing it into his calf this time.

  
"Damn it, Wrench. Hold still." he was growing more frustrated.

  
"You're making me anxious, man!" whined the engineer, hovering his hands over his thigh.

  
"You're making me consider first degree murder." he threatened vaguely.

  
Wrench groaned. "I don't know why I'm freaking out all of a sudden. But here I am. I'm sorry, I know it's probably annoying." he mumbled, angry at himself.

  
Marcus contemplated his approach. He couldn't understand why Wrench was nervous this time, but it wasn't his place to comment on it. Fully aware that this was one time where he couldn't put himself in Wrench's shoes to better understand, he thought hard about what to say to help.

  
Humor. Jokes. Poking fun, and playful mocking. That's how these two men often communicated even in serious situations. It wasn't that they didn't care or didn't try to fix any relationship problems, but it was an easy and familiar way to approach their problems. It kept the mood light while they got to the root of it.

  
"How many tattoos do you have?" he asked, and when Wrench looked up at him confused, he was held back a smile as Wrench began to understand his implication.

  
"Marcus, I really don't appreciate your roundabout tone." he sneered.

  
"Actually, how many shots have you given yourself by now?" he added, watching his boyfriend carefully as a means to make sure he wasn't taking it too far.

  
Wrench crossed his arms and began tapping his left foot. "Just what are you implying?" he squinted at the hacker.

  
"Hey, I'm just saying," he began and raised his hands in a defensive manner, "All that ink, and you're afraid of one little needle that's here to help. Kind of funny, is all I'm saying." his lips curling into a grin.

  
"I can't help it. That bastard keeps giving me dirty looks. He's... mocking me, M. I can't trust him." he narrowed his eyes at the needle, as if expecting the offender to defend itself.

  
"Try closing your eyes, then." he felt like he was stating the obvious, but Wrench instantly threw that idea out the window.

  
"That'll just make me more sc-... nervous." he corrected himself, unwilling to admit that he was actually scared.

  
Marcus looked Wrench up and down before deciding to get a little more serious. "Are there any other spots we can do the shot? Would that help?" he asked. Wrench tilted his head, giving it some thought.

  
"My ass, I guess." he mused. Marcus looked at him, unsure if he was serious. "I mean it. I've never done it before because I can't get the right angle, but that's the only other place I know of." he countered the curious look.

  
"You want me... to stab you in the ass?" he asked for affirmation.

  
"Well, wouldn't be the first time. You're just using a needle this time." he winked at his boyfriend, who instantly laughed and covered his mouth, looking away.

  
"Oh my God." he held in a laugh as he gave Wrench the side eye. "Unbelievable. Absolutely un- _fucking_ -believable." his voice was hitched, about to crack. Wrench smiled, feeling proud of himself for making Marcus flustered for once.

  
"Alright, you really gotta quit stalling, M. We got shit to do today. Lets go." he declared as he stood, walking past his speechless boyfriend and making his way to the bedroom.

  
Marcus took a second to recover from his boyfriends adoring stupidity and finally stood up to follow, making sure to grab another alcohol swab from the bathrooms medicine cabinet before walking in on Wrench, who was already laying on the bed, his stomach against the blanket.  
His arms were crossed and his head was resting on them, watching Marcus as he walked in. He began to have second thoughts about having Marcus do his shot, his body tensing immediately as Marcus walked to the side of the bed.

  
"Alright, tell me what I'm doing."

  
Wrench moved an arm to pull down his boxers, exposing a small area on his cheek. "You just pinch right around here," he said, gesturing with his finger, "And inject in that area." he answered, finding it hard to look at Marcus-- or rather what's in his hand.

Marcus nodded, and tore open the swab and rubbed a small circle on the cheek. He followed orders and pinched the spot he was told to and angled the needle just above the skin. Wrench said to stab it in like a dart, but Marcus figured the whole 'stab' concept was what's making Wrench scared.

  
"Try to not tense up." he warned. Wrench could only nod, his eyes clenched tightly and had a tight grip on his elbows.

  
Marcus took in a deep breath to steady his hands, feeling as though Wrench's nerves were sucked into his own stomach. He stared at the site for a second, before he began to slowly push the needle in.

  
Wrench hissed in pain, taking in a sharp breath as the needle went deeper and tried to keep the lower half of his body as loose as he could. "Alright, now... push the plunger- slowly." his voice was hitched and he spoke through gritted teeth.

  
"Got it." Marcus said as he slowly moved his thumb to the plunger and began to push down.

  
He looked up at Wrench quickly a few times, making sure he wasn't going to move and that he was okay. When the syringe was empty of its contents, Marcus looked up at Wrench. "Now what?"

  
"L-... Let go of my ass." Obeying, Marcus slowly released his grip and let his arm dangle at his side. Wrench stayed quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. "Pull it out." he spoke quickly, preparing himself.

  
With extreme caution, Marcus began to pull the needle out. When it was fully out, Wrench reached his hand backwards and held out a band-aid. Marcus set the needle on the bedside table and grabbed it, unwrapping it and placing it over the small red dot forming on his boyfriends cheek.

  
Wrench let out a long, exasperated sigh as his body drained of all tension and he closed his eyes. Physically, the pain was minimal at worst. Mentally, he felt like he just ran a marathon. Ignoring the fact that it was only somewhere around three in the afternoon, and the fact that he's only been up for about an hour thanks to his late night, Wrench could feel the overwhelming need for a nap coming on.

Marcus crawled into bed next to him, laying on his side so that he could face his boyfriend who was mindfully pulling up his boxers. "You good?" he questioned in a low tone that seemed to fit the exhausted mood his boyfriend was in.

  
"What, you're not gonna kiss it and make it better?" his lips curling into a mischievous grin.

  
His eyes shot open when he felt the plump of Marcus' lips on the tip of his nose. When Marcus pulled back, both men wore sheepish smiles.  
"Guess that works." he teased, winking at his boyfriend.

Marcus chuckled, grabbing Wrench's face and brought it closer to kiss his burn mark. Wrench's left eye crinkled shut as his lips remained in place. It was something Marcus did often, kissing that specific spot. Wrench himself was shocked when he realized he didn't mind, and in fact liked it. When Marcus kissed his scar it said more than any words could describe and left a fuzzy feeling in Wrench's chest.

Marcus pulled away and looked down at the other hacker. "You good?" asking again, plainly displaying a want for a clear response this time. Wrench breathed a quick snicker, nodding.

  
"Yeah, M. I'm fine." he assured, then looked down. "Thanks, by the way. For helping. I'm sure it was a great experience for you." he mocked, mostly his own behavior.

  
Marcus was too infatuated with their current setting to acknowledge Wrench's statement. He simply smiled. "If you ever need help with your shots again, tell me." he murmured.

  
"Damn Marcus. You got it baaad." he teased relentlessly, but upon observing his boyfriend's content expression, he found himself smiling meekly and snuggled his face into the crook of Marcus' neck. "I will, M. Thanks." his voice was soft and gentle, the complete opposite of his usual high pitched and excited tone.

  
Marcus wrapped his arms around Wrench and brought him in closer, tightening his grip when Wrench moved his arms to mirror Marcus', hugging onto his boyfriend.

  
"Shit, didn't you put dinner in the oven?" Wrench asked abruptly, but showing no signs of moving, reality taking its time to settle in, that whatever food Marcus has prepared was probably nothing more than a shriveled piece of charcoal.

  
Both men scattered from the bed, running into the kitchen. Wrench grabbed the respective fire extinguisher (something Marcus had to eventually buy because, as sweet as it was, Wrench had quickly become banned from trying to cook due to the many... many close calls the two had with small kitchen fires). Marcus opened the oven, readying himself for a plume of smoke and foul smells only to find himself gazing down at the raw chicken on the pan.

  
"What? What's wrong?" Wrench asked, getting himself prepared to spray.

Marcus quietly stood up and closed the oven door and leaned over to set the temperature.

  
Wrench, slowly coming to understand, busted out in a hearty laugh, setting the extinguisher on the counter as he doubled over, his hands grabbing his knees to keep him from falling over. "Fuck, dude. That- That's-" he couldn't finished, his lungs screaming for air.

  
Marcus turned around, his face was expressionless and walked past his bellowing boyfriend and sat down on the couch keeping eye contact with the blank tv screen. Wrench stood up, wiping a tear from his eye as he approached a brooding Marcus.

  
"M, you good?" he asked tauntingly.

  
"Shut up." mumbling, he pulled Wrench down by his wrist and sat him in his lap, hugging him tightly.

  
Wrench returned the squeeze when he wrapped his arms around Marcus neck and placing his head on top of Marcus'. He saved whatever mocking statement he came up with and savored the moment, relishing in Marcus' embrace.

  
"Love you, Marcus." he cooed, closing his eyes. "You know, even though you kind of ruined dinner." Well, that didn't last long.

  
Marcus retaliated by giving Wrench's arm a pinch. "Alright, get the hell off me." he mumbled with fake anger, pushing Wrench away.

  
"No! I'm sorry! Stop it!" he exclaimed, trying to hold onto Marcus' arms. "How can you be so cruel to someone who just had a shot in the ass?" he whined, successful in staying in his lap, but still being held away by Marcus' extended arms.

  
"When that person is a smug bastard? Easily." he continued pushing Wrench, until the engineer used his height to his advantage and tackled Marcus, sending him flying on his back.

  
His arms wrapped securely around Marcus' neck, he looked up with his eyes clenched shut. "Love me-eee-eee!" he whined, though he was smiling. Marcus laughed at the sight, shaking his head and bringing a hand up to place it on Wrench's cheek.

  
"I do, you idiot." with that, he kissed his lips, a little roughly this time in hopes of keeping Wrench's mouth shut-- or at least occupied-- to stop him from making anymore comments.

  
Wrench had no problem with this attempt to silence him, deepening the kiss by pushing his head forward so that Marcus' head was now comfortably resting on the couch cushion, moving one arm so that he could grab the back of Marcus' neck. Marcus' free hand found its way to Wrench's hips as the engineer began to apply on and off pressure to Marcus' groin in the form of grinding motions.

  
Marcus pulled away, his lips still brushing against Wrench's as he spoke. "If this continues, dinner might actually burn this time." he was out of breath and trying hard not to let himself get any more aroused.

  
Wrench hummed a laugh. "You mean you actually turned the oven on this time?"

  
He could have easily pushed Wrench off of him, sending the anarchist directly to the floor. He had the right leverage and strength, and Wrench was too distracted to stop him. But he just laughed, shaking his head in a means of giving up and decided to hug his boyfriend.

  
"You're the worst." despite the message, his voice was soft. Wrench dug his face into Marcus' chest, accepting the insincere insult as a loving compliment.

  
Both men were content, all emotions settling down to a peaceful calmness as they embraced each other. Days like this were rare; not having any open missions for DedSec or hardware to tend to. It was nice for the men to spend the day together, still somehow managing some level of chaos because it would be abnormal if something didn't somehow go wrong, even if it only ends up being one man needing help with a shot or another man delaying dinner.

  
If asked, both hackers would agree that this day was a good day, a generous addition to promising memories to be used as ammunition to embarrass each other. Not that it had crossed a certain tattooed mans mind, especially given his current circumstances. Not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! i really hope you liked it!!  
> its 2 am and ive been working on this all day, so im sorry if its not the greatest!!  
> i wanted it to be short, but i kept adding to it so the ending might be... unsatisfying and im sorry.  
> im sorry for any errors, and i hope they werent too bad!!


End file.
